


Domestic fluff fic for weary souls :)

by Bellakin



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Blue Sonder (Video Blogging RPF), Alternate Universe - Wings, Children, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Kindda blue sonders? But not REALLY?, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28311798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellakin/pseuds/Bellakin
Summary: Wilbur, technoblade, and tommyinnit + tubbo oragin story! Includes a fondly exasperated Dadza and a mischievous Wilbur soot! Bonus chapter includes teen techno, Wil, And a 13 year old tommyinnit!
Comments: 9
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

To be fair, it wasn't his fault. 

He had been tired the night before, a little bit drunk, though he’d never admit it. The guitar he’d never played had always sat beside his fridge, collecting dust as the strings frayed. Last night, he had apparently decided to put the guitar in the freezer in a haze, thinking it a fair exchange for the icecream that sat half eating and thoroughly melted near on a countertop. 

Now, though? He had no idea where the guitar went and how the child got into his fridge. He looked around tiredly, as if the child's parents would pop out, perhaps see a broken window it had come from. 

The young child looked at him, big brown eyes curious as he babled quietly to himself, holding the frozen salmon Phil had gotten a few days ago. His near naked wings flapped uselessly at his sides, feathery down barely at his joints. Sighing, Phil picked up the little thing, earning a whine when the child dropped the salmon. He raised a brow, holding the.. Thing, an arm's length away. The child babled again, flailing while grinning. His little poof of brown hair bobbing with his movements. He glanced at the fridge and his abandoned cup on the ground, seeing a suspicious lack of food missing from the space the child had sat. The kid obviously didn't eat it, because there was no plastic wrap to be seen, but they were gone nonetheless. He didn't even think the kid was old enough to even eat the stuff. 

Phil groans, looking at the sweater-clad child. He blew a raspberry at Phil, giggling maniacally while flapping his wings when Phil stuck his tongue out in retribution. Grinning slightly, he brought the kid a bit closer, studying his rosy cheeks and chubby smile.

Phil just now noticed the slight shiver the child gave, a small wave of panic shot through him at the thought. The child had, presumably, been in the freezer all night. 

“Bah!” He flinched when the child yelled. “Pphhtthhh!” The kid spat, giggling. The child seemed fine, though it continued to shiver. He still brought it to his chest, wrapping it up in his kimonos folds in an attempt to warm him up. The child cooed, cuddling up and promptly napping. He pursed his lips, glancing at the fridge in confusion before signing once again, closing the door and squatting to pick up his fallen cup. Tucking it back into the shelf, he walks to the couch and sits, carefully monevering to be comfortable without jostling the child. 

He stares at the fridge from across the hall, wondering if he should toss the damned thing or see what happens. 


	2. Cht 2

“Wilbur!” Phil huffs in exasperation, hands on his face, peaking at the child of cause. Wilbur smiles brightly, not a hint of remorse in his features. The groceries were stacked precariously in a tower, at Wils doing, tottering about the air dangerously.

At least he put the bread on top and did not squish it. 

“How did you even…?” He mulls, baffled at the feat the child had accomplished. Wilbur giggled once again, skipping over to stand in front of his father with a beaming smile. Phil was honestly befuddled how he was going to get them all down with no casualties, the task nay impossible.

It was impossible, as he later found out. 

As soon as Phil had taken the bread off the top of the tower, (Having to stand on the table, terribly confused how Wil, tiny, six year old Wil who couldn't fly yet, had reached so high where he struggled) the tower of food had fallen and nearly fell on Wilbur, haddent Philzas wings been wrapped around him the second he saw it tilt. 

Phil groaned as the food scattered on the floor, some spilling out their containers but most fine. 

The bread was safe, weirdly enough.

Wil was silent, odd. Glancing at the six year old as he stared at the scattered items with a fairly guilty expression. Phil sighs. 

“Well, I guess its clean up time.” Wil snaps his attention to Philza, before nodding wordlessly. 

They put the food away in relative silence. Wil, knowing where everything goes, puts the food away while Phil gets rid of the ruined things and cleans up the spills. 

Peeking under the couch, he finds the bacon slabs being impaled by- was that Phils lost knife? He stared at the lost item, absolute bafflement on his face before he dragged the bacon and, apparently knife, out from under the couch.

The bacon was fine, he decided, slipping it into the freezer, toying with his knife before sliding it on top of the fridge. Wilbur peaking curiously at the bacon, an odd look on his face. 

“Why’re you putting him in mom?” 

Phil stilled, the door half closed. He looked at Wil, horrified. 

“What the fuck, mate.”

Wilbur got a very, very long talk after that. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short chapter!

Philza is going to lose his mind. Legitimately lose his mind. He’s going to go feral. 

Hes going absolutely apeshit after this. 

The small, red eyed boy in the fridge looked at him bordly. He gnawed at the handle of Phils knife, making a horrible scraping sound as his tiny tusks dragged against the polished wood. His slightly chopped bubblegum hair was frosted, so Phil coaxed him out of the cold and into the warmth of the kitchen. The child kept chewing the knife handle, curiously looking around and glanced at Phil as his hooves cloped pleasantly on the stone, wings folded neatly on his back.

Phil was exhausted. The small boy's legs weren't,,, exactly human legs. His legs hosted the shape and coloration of a piglin, a hostile mob that found home in the Nether, thin fur coating the pinkish skin. His wings were a mystery, looking near juvenile though the boy appeared to be only five, where he should only have soft down.

Phil didn't even ask how the child had gotten his knife from inside the fridge. 

He snapped back to attention when the child pulled on the edge of his kimono, looking down at the hybrid. 

“Up.” He demanded, less ask, holding the knife threateningly. Phil sighed, snatching the knife and picking up the kid in one go. 

Note; piglins can scream really, really loud. 


	4. Chapter 4

You see, Technoblade, (a self proclaimed name, phils ears were ringing too loud to care), liked music. As in, really liked music. For his birthday, Phil had gotten him a jukebox and several disks. Among them, there were Tecnos favorite disks, ‘Cat’, ‘Mellohi’, and ‘Wait’. 

Of course Wil was a menace and stole all three of his favorite disks, because tecno had called him a nerd. 

Where did he hide them? Well, that's for Wilbur and his mother to know.

Of course, this majorly backfired when Wil couldn't get the freezer open. 

“DADDDDDDD!” Wilbur yelled, tugging fruitlessly on the door. 

Phil sighs. He had practically searched the whole house, checking under Wils bed, in his cabinet, shelf, all of which provided nothing but dust bunnies and clothes. He lingered for a few more moments in the room, desperately scanning the floor as if the discs would appear where he had missed them. 

“DADDDD WE NEED HELP!” He heard Tecno yell this time, his voice piercing the air loud and clear. Phil groaned, no longer able to procrastinate, and left down the hall and to where he had heard his boys. 

Arguing was audible as he got closer to the kitchen, snippets of words floating in the air. 

“What's wrong?” Phil bumps in, interrupting the fight. Wil opened his mouth, but Tecno was quick to cut him off. 

“Wilb says he left my disks in the freezer!” Phil tensed. Not again, his mind desperately begged. Phil quickly walked over to the cursed fridge, muttering profanities when it wouldn't open. 

“Bloody hell…” He hisses, slamming his head on the door, bitterly relishing the chill the steel gave. 

“Dad?” Phil looked tiredly at his son. Wilbur looked decidedly guilty, (phil felt a sense of deja vu,) hands wringing and looking everywhere but tecno and him. Philza sighs once again. 

“C’mere.” he mutters, sliding down to sit, back against the fridge. His wings ruffled at the cold but fell as he got comfortable. Wiblur looked hesitant, barely taking a step before stopping nervously. Phil smiled, still exhausted, but opened his arms invitingly. 

When Wilbur sits down a few inches away, still not making eye contact, Phil huffs and drags him into the damn hug with his wings, allowing Wil to escape if he wants to. Wil wiggles slightly, getting comfortable before relaxing, his own wings folded on his back tightly. 

“M’ sorry.” Wil blurts out, burying his head in his clothes. Phil hums. 

“Am I the one you should be saying that to?” He asks, running a hand through Wils downy feathers. Wilbur wilts slightly. 

“No..” 

Phil didn't get an answer after that. 

A few rustles came from outside the little pocket of feathers, tecno peaking over phils alula, hands sitting of the wings joint carefully. Phil raised a brow. 

Tecno raised his back, before dropping from the joint and wiggling under Phils wing, huffing when phil didn't move it. Phil chuckled, but finally lifted his wing to let tecno cuddle up, wrapping the feathered appendage around his son onces again. Wilbur lifted his head to look at tecno, guilt still on his face as his small wings flexed nervously. 

“I'm sorry, tec.”

Tecno doesn't respond, but nods sharply before closing his eyes and relaxing. 

“So, about that question of how babies are made-”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nother short one, the ome after this is very long though!

The next day, Phils back aches something fierce, a wince on his lips at the feeling of feathers being borderline bent. Glancing at his boys, Techno was awake and reading while Wilbur sat quietly next to him. Phil had fallen asleep after explaining that, no, I'm sorry techno, but your disks are now going to be your new brother, no I can't do anything about it. Please for the love of god dont cry, i'll get you new ones. 

He assumed they both fell asleep after him and woke before. 

Phil felt a thump on the fridge behind him.

His eyes snapped open as he jerked, his wing aching again as a few feathers were yanked out, but he ignored it to vouch for pulling two confused kids away from the fridge. 

As expected, when he opened the door, a child sat tearfully in the freezer. 

The small blonde boy whined, shivering as he cried. 

Shiiit-

Phil scooped up the kid quickly, tucking him in his wings as he rushed out of the kitchen, going for the couch to better warm him up. The child's wings were trembling harshly, comically large on the small kid's back. Already phil could see the bluejay presenting in his genes, black and a soft grey with a nearly neon shade of blue. 

He could tell he was going to be a pain in the ass. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finnal chaper everybody! :DD

Tommy cackled as he sprinted down the pathway, hearing his brothers chase him from between the trees. The sky was bright through the treetops, dappleing the soil and fana on the ground. Phils forest was alive with creatures, birds chirping loudly from unseen areas, insects chittering about. Tommy quickly dived into a small tunnel he had found the previous day, trembling with excitement as he held his breath. 

“I think he went this way, tecno!” Wils voice was surprisingly close, making Tommy tense in his spot. 

“Wil, I think we lost him, I can't hear him anymore.” The thump of Tecnoblades hooves was directly above tommy. Adrenaline courses through his veins as he doesn't breath, nails digging into the cool earth. He heard the frustrated ruffle that could only be Wilburs wings flexing. 

“Do you think he climbed a tree?” Wil offers, tommy could only presume he was scanning the branches above them, searching for bright blue feathers. Jokes on him! Tommy had slipped on one of Phil's old coats, covering his bright feathers perfectly. 

“No, none of the trees have low enough branches.” Tecno huffs. 

“Should we give up? We have no idea where he went.” Wilbur whines, walking around on the soil above tommy. 

“Wait.” Tecno hisses. 

Tommys blood runs cold, what little he was breathing stops in his lungs. Tecno stomps on the ground.

He knows. 

“The ground is hollow! He must be under here for us to lose him so fast!” Tecno says excitedly. The hooves leave from atop of tommys tunnel, and he can hear Tecno and Wilbur rustling around in search of the entrance. 

“Do you really think he's in there?” Wil sounded dubious, though he still parted the grass above. Tecno nodded. 

“Oh tommy….” Wil sung, stomping the ground. Tommy was frozen solid, unable to move as he heard tecno get closer and closer to the small hole he had wiggled in.

He saw a hoof. 

And then Tommy ran. 

Tecno yelps as Tommy darts right between his legs, sprinting into the trees as fast as his legs would allow. 

“THERE HE GOES!” He roars, snapping out of his stupor, spreading his wings to give a powerful flap, sending him quickly after tommy.

Tommy laughs gigidly, his legs practically making him fly over the soil. He leaps over a stone, oversized coat being shed as his wings open to slow his fall. He couldn't quite fly, his secondaries have not fully come in yet, but he sure as hell felt like he was flying at that moment. 

He sprinted and sprinted for close to 15 minutes, weaving and backtracking to lose his taggers. 

He slowed as he came close to home, the house hidden by the heavy woods surrounding the building. He pants, absolutely sure he lost his brothers in the confusing thicket, so he sat down beneath a tree to relax and calm his puffy feathers, grooming them smooth and pulling out leaves and sticks. Moments pass peacefully, the air still. 

And then Wilbur tackles him. Tommy shreakes, wiggling as Wil pinned him down. 

“I got you!” He yells, thrusting his fist in the air excitedly. Tommy groans, going limp in defeat. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever dickwad. I still won!” Wil rolls his eyes and lets him up, waving at Tecno when he breaks the tree line, panting slightly.

They were all covered in a layer of sweat and grime, Tommy covered in dust from the tunnel. 

“How did you even FIT in that thing?” Tecno groans, rubbing his cheeks fruitlessly to get the dirt off. 

Tommy grins.

“I'm just that good!” He brags, suntering off to the house to clean up. 

“Dibs!” He yells, suddenly running into the house. He quickly regretted running, because his legs screamed in protest. His adrenaline has worn off a bit ago, exhaustion tugging at his limbs and making him stumble. 

Phil was sitting on the couch, looking amusedly at his boys as they tiredly walked in, covered in dirt, but grinning. He flipped his book shut, going into the kitchen to see what he could make for dinner. 

They were out of food. 

“HEY, IM GOING TO THE STORE.” He yells up the staircase, but upon hearing the showers running he opted to leave a note. Scribbling on a piece of paper, he shrugged on a coat to cover his wings as he went out, revving up the car for the long journey. 

He didn't expect the weather to get so bad on the way back. The town he had gone to had been a bit cloudy, but nothing of concern and Phil had ignored the gathering moisture.The town had gathered for an announcement he hadn't bothered to hear, so the stores were mainly empty and made shopping quick. 

Now though?

He was stuck driving slowly on the road, a trunk full of food he wasn't willing to abandon and could barely see two yards in front of him. 

The wind howled rangeley outside, rain pelting the old van with no hesitation. Phil had no idea how much longer it would take to get home, but he hoped the sky would relent and allow him to pass eventually. 

No such luck. Wil had always cursed the sky gods, calling them useless and cruel, and, well, Phil was starting to believe it, when a tree fell and just nearly took him out. 

He continued on, looking at the trees warily as they swayed with the wind as he sped up every time he came across one. 

He nearly cried in relief when he saw his familiar forest. 

Phil slammed on the breaks. 

The rain couldn't quite penetrate the thick foliage, nor could the wind, but water still slipped through and drenched him as he left the car. 

A box. 

There was a box in the middle of the road, right on the border of his land and the unclaimed. The side facing him had words washed out by rain, the wind joyfully whipping at the soaked cardboard. It didn't budge as it would've had it been empty, so that meant that something was in it. 

And Phil was nothing but a curious man. 

He approached the box, wincing as the rain got in his eyes, but he continued until he could see the box was closed. 

It fell apart when he touched it. 

And a little boy, the smallest he's ever seen, looked at him with lidded green eyes. 

He was indifferent when the village sent sacrifices, that is true, but they had never sent children. Mostly grown people who chose to die, only to meet Phil, who instead set them up in a new town, swearing them to secrecy. 

They had never sent him children. 

They had never sent him children. 

A hot, angry swell of fury puffed his wings and narrowed his eyes, bruises spotting the child's bare arms and legs. He had heard, from other, much crueler spirits, that towns would send them unwanted children to be slaughtered for another day of peace. 

He had assumed this town did not prejudice against the winged. 

He supposed he was wrong. 

Scooping the child and the wooden box up, he hauled the light boy to the passenger seat, settling him in and grabbing tommys blanket from the backseat, situating it around the soaked child. His tiny insect wings trembled and stilled consistently, soaked and weak as his antena stayed plastered to his skull. 

He needed to get home a lot quicker than he thought he would. 

The boy passed out a few minutes after he started tearing through the path, his car moaning in protest but continuing on. 

He came across the clearing that hosted their home, he could see all his boys sitting on the porch. 

They rushed to the car, uncaring of the rain, worry on their lips when Phil hurried out the car. 

“Not now, get back inside!” He snarled, grabbing the unconscious kid from the passenger seat. Wilburs eyes widen, mouth opening in surprise before he usures tecno and tommy back before Phil got to the door, quickly slamming it shut once phil got inside. 

“Tecno, go run the water, as warm as possible but not burning. Tommy, go get some of your old clothing, and Wilbur I need you to get the perishables from the car.” Phil was quick to start speaking, setting the boy on the couch and rubbing his hair with the blanket to try to get friction to warm him up. He heard his boys quickly go off, not a word said. 

Tommy and Tecno came in a bit later at the same time, tommy holding some clothing and a towel. 

Phil hauled up the child and rushed up the stairs, the stillness and un response to being jostled making phil fear the worst. 

The kid did wake up, when he was set in the water. Phil felt the boy tense up, curling away from Phil and resuming his shaking. Phil backed off, hands in the air as he leaned on the wall across the room, trying to be as non threatening as possible. 

“Hey, there.” Philza whispers, sliding down onto the ground. The boy sat in the bath, looking around the room frantically. 

“You're ok, I'm just trying to warm you up. You were sent by the town nearby as an offering for the spirit here, correct?” he kept his voice steady and quiet, smiling kindly. 

The boy nods, opening his mouth but quickly shutting it. 

“Allright, well, I found you in the storm so I decided to take you to my home. I don't think you may remember that, but I picked you out of a box at the border. Right now, you're just in a bath of warm water to help heat you up.” He continued on, trying to fill in the details as well as possible, smiling when the boy relaxed in the water. He kept his wings well away from the liquid. 

“Why?” The boy croaked, averting his eyes when Phil looked at him. He blinked. 

“What, mate? Do you mean why did I help you?” He treaded carefully, tilting his head. 

“Yeah.” He whispers. A pang of sadness stabbed his weak heart. 

“Because no one deserves to be killed for being born different from the rest.” 

“Oh.”

There was a soft knock on the door. Wilburs head peaks in, glancing at the boy before settling on Phil. 

“Everything is put away, dad.” He says softly, opening the door slightly more. His warm brown wings were open slightly behind him to dry, soft browns, tans, yellow and white splattering the feathers. He heard the boy gasp. 

Both Phil and Wilbur look at the boy, who covers his mouth, panic on his face as he looks at them. 

“You ok there?” Wil askes awkwardly, scratching his neck. No response.

“Thank you Wil. we’ll be out in a few.” Phil quickly breaks the tension. Wil looks at his jacket and winces. 

“You might want to take that off, you’ll get sick with the bloody thing.” 

“You're probably right, honestly.” Phil shrugs the coat off, wincing as he spreads his wings, pops coming from the stiff cold joints. He looks in the mirror, seeing the boys jaw gaping open. He forced himself to choke back a laugh. 

“Have you never seen another winged?” Wilbur asks incredulously, nose scrunched at the thought. The boy looks away, embarrassed. 

“Nawh, leave em be, Wil.” Phil huffs, pushing his soaked jaket into his son's arms. 

“Don't you mean, Leave him BEE?” Wil jabs, cackling when Phil groans. 

“why’re you still here, you bloody nuisance? Shoo!” He waves his hands dramatically, covering his eyes. Wil’s laughter echoes through the hall. 

Phil looks back at the kid, whose eyes are glued to his giant, still-wet wings. He raises a brow.

“Have you?” The boy quickly looks at Phil, tilting his head. 

“Have you ever seen another winged, I mean.” Phil clarifies, watching the boy's expression fall. 

“No.” 

“You're about to meet four of them, then.” 

“Allright, let's get you out of those clothes, yeah?” Phil breaks the silence, the boy still looking baffled. He nods unsurely, standing up. Phil passes him the towel and clothing, grimacing as he stands. He opened the door and promptly left, closing it behind him. 

“Knock when you're done!” He yells through, cracking his back with a wince. Tommy peaks form around the corner. 

“Hey, dad. Foods done.” Phil nods, humming as he stretches out. He yawns, running a hand through his hair and feeling the crusty dryness from the rain. 

“How are you guys holding up?” Philza askes, looking at his youngest tiredly. Tommy shrugs before responding. 

“Confused, scared of Angry Philza Minecaft, hungry, tired, mildly wet, the usual.” Phil snorts, smiling slightly. 

“I wasnet that mad.” He grumbles. Tommy shrugs again. 

He hears three knocks on the bathroom door, before seeing it open. 

“Hi.” The boy whispers, looking at tommy. Phil saw his eyes widen ever so slightly at the brilliant blue of Tommys feathers, but kept his expression mainly controlled. 

“Wassup. I'm tommy.” Phil mentally groaned. Did he seriously forget to get that bloody kids name?

“M’ Tubbo.” he answers quietly, glancing behind Tommy at the staircase. 

“Cool, you want food?” Tommy was quick to start up conversation, completely nonchalant, leaning on the wall. 

“Uh..” Tubbo practically sputters at the casualty. 

“Ill take that as a yes, cmon Bee boy.” Tommy yawns halfway through, showing his red braces and stretching his wings slightly at the strain before skipping down the stairs. 

Phil shakes his head fondly, passing by tubbo and following him down the stairs. 

Tubbo stood awkwardly in the hall, confusion ringing in his ears. His wings buzzed on his back. 


End file.
